


New Year NyxNoct Challenge

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life, Snippets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-02 08:10:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 7,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17260682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: A collection of shorts and scenes featuring NyxNoct for myNew Year Challenge.





	1. Fireworks

The fireworks above Insomnia seemed to shatter against the night sky. They burst with colour above the city, barely higher than the tallest of the buildings. Nyx remembered them fondly— the short lived sequences of golds and silvers, blues and reds nearly lost in the glitter of the gleaming city itself. If he was lucky, he would be posted to guard duty to the formal functions. Posted high above the city as the colours burst around him and the nobility ignored the majesty of their home. 

Most of the time, when the fireworks rang in the new year, Nyx was off duty. He was already surrounded by colour and noise. The fireworks high above the towers were just more of the same and easily missed flashes of commotion in the depths of the city. Nyx saw the colours in tattered banners and remade signs. Lights flickered and flashed, beating in time with the heavy, lively music pulsing out into the streets as the New Year’s parties raged on deep into the deceptive night. 

“What do you think?”

“Not the first time I’ve seen fireworks, little star.”

But out here, on the mirror calm waters of Altissia, the fireworks shattered into thousands of bright stars. The soft lights of the waterbound city already eased the day to night. Altissia glowed like a thousand candles burning for the couples gathered within its intricate, carved stone walls and along the water’s edge. The resounding cacophony of the show rippled through the city like the canals, echoed by the excitement of the crowd. 

Here, Nyx could admire the show for what it was. He could rest easy with his arm around the Lucian Crown Prince, a smile curling his lips as he watched the colours dance across the water. At his side, Noctis settled closer, burrowed towards the warmth. As if they were the only two people on the arch of the bridge. As if they were the only two people watching the new year be greeted with bursts of vivid colours.


	2. Breakfast in Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyx prepares a celebratory breakfast in bed for Noctis.

Nyx’s apartment was not set up to really appreciate sunrise. It was buried deep in the Galahdian district, nestled above a bar that kept its hours late and its doors open. He had enough saved and squirrelled away to move— to find a quieter street, a higher building, where the mornings could flood in with the sense of peace and calm that blanketed the city beneath the Wall. He could find a place, easily enough, that gave him the sense of ease that he was fighting to protect for the Lucians turning a blind eye to the rest of the world. 

But he liked the noise of the bar, and the reminder of the life he had dreamed of having back home. He liked that Libertus was buried just as deep as he was, with his larger apartment a few blocks away. He liked that the sun may have never quite reached his window until well after dawn, but the warmth of his culture still surrounded him. The Galahdian colours and banners and markets greeted him as soon as he set a foot outside of his door. He slept just fine among the noise and bustle and music.

Noctis seemed to sleep just fine in the tiny apartment. 

It was nearly impossible to wake him up some days. 

“What’s all this?”

“Breakfast,” Nyx suspected that the smell of food would always do the trick. He smiled as Noctis scooted up on the narrow bed to lean back against the wall that served as a headboard. 

The tray settled easily across Noctis’ lap, balanced on narrow metal legs Nyx had polished when he first found it in a thrift shop down the road. “You made breakfast?”

“I made breakfast,” Nyx settled himself on the edge of the bed, ready to pick off the plate he had piled high with spiced scrambled eggs, crispy garula bacon he had cut himself and fried crispy. He had added some fruit for the sweetness, to balance out the heat of his cooking. 

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

“You wound me, little star. Of course I can cook. And,” Nyx stole some bacon to nibble on while Noctis prodded the eggs with his fork; “we’re celebrating.”

“Celebrating? What did I forget this time?”

“Nothing. We’re celebrating the start of a new year. It’s tradition.”

“That was yesterday.”

“For you. Galahd’s New Year is today.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Noctis smiled at the thought of a second set of celebrations. The parties and events, the chaos of a city caught in revelry, had kept going long into the night before. Noctis hadn’t given it much thought— the district was always a splash of colour and light to him. It was always warm and welcoming as he wandered it with Nyx, and there was always something going on. “I didn’t realise.”

“That’s okay,” Nyx grinned, perched easily at Noctis’ side; “but you’re coming around for the visits today.”

“Visits?”

“Starting with Libertus.”

Calm mornings were rare enough in the depths of the city; mornings where the sun could crawl and creep across the district and Nyx could watch the shadows move in his own apartment without needing to rush somewhere. Mornings where the whole city was still riding a high of good cheer and holiday relief, even as the real world loomed on the edges of the day, ready to crash down around them. At least here, safe in the warmth of the narrow bed and the peace of Nyx’s small apartment, that crash wouldn’t come with a Nif missile.


	3. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galahd's New Year was a few days after Lucis', when the sun would rise in a very particular spot. It was tradition to spend the night in good company.

“So why now?”

“I don’t know,” Nyx grinned, a sparkler in hand as they walked through the crowded streets flooded with colours and banners and lights. “I remember something about where the sun was on a mountain or something. I never had a mind for that stuff.”

Blocks away, most of the Lucian city slept. The night carried on as normal, the excitement of the new year already quieted down as life carried on with the rest of the world. But in the Galahdian districts, the celebrations carried on. The excitement carried on as one year spilt over into the next; as the calendar years of their host home were ignored in favour of more traditional events. 

Lucians celebrated on the winter solstice— traditions of fire and light carried over from the ashes of Solheim beneath the Titan’s meteor. They watched the long, dark night fade to a new dawn and looked to their kings and queens and crystals to reassure themselves that the light truly was back. Every Lucian monarch was a King of Light on New Years. 

Niflheim and its provinces celebrated in the summer, at the height of the firy warm months. Noctis vaguely knew of traditions to sow the seeds of bringing back warmth, while places like Cavaugh celebrated with feats of strength and their summer tournaments and games. Both calendars had synced up at some point, running in opposite to Lucis. Altissia and its islands relied on the tides; their celebration coinciding with Lucis, though the actual date was still weeks away as the flood waters receded from the canals and streets and the Tidemother blessed the floating city for another year. 

And Galahd… 

Noctis only knew that Galahd celebrated later than Lucis. With firedancers in the parks, and stalls of food and drinks at every corner. He knew that the district refused to sleep as they huddled around bonfires and beneath street awnings. Children raced through the crowds with sparklers and glowsticks, colours flashing through the night as the chatter and excitement drowned out any music that might be playing from competing speakers. There were no fireworks for Galahd in the city, but there was plenty of fire and spice and meat sizzling on grills. 

Noctis wandered the excitement with Nyx, arms linked as Nyx abandoned his dying sparkler for a bowl of steaming sauces and meat and bread. 

The cook at the grill pointed to Noctis, but looked to Nyx, and nodded as Nyx confirmed something in their shared mother-tongue. A bowl was handed to Noctis— different colours, different meats, fewer spices tickling at his senses— before they were pushed aside back into the crowd with their prize. 

“What did you tell him? Mine’s different.”

Nyx grinned as he pulled them somewhere to wait out the cold night; “I told him you were Lucian.”

A taste of the fire in Nyx’s dish and Noct was grateful for the difference. Somewhere, across the ocean waters that separated Lucis from Nyx’s home, the sun would rise on a particular central mountain across a particular plain, and set a particular river ablaze like molten gold and shining ruby. The world would be remade in that sunrise. 

Nyx kissed Noctis’ forehead as they waited, the crowd turned to the east as they watched and waited for the new year. 

“Thanks for inviting me, hero.”

“Glad you’re here, little king.”


	4. Doting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyx was not used to being the one doted on.

Nyx was not used to the attention. 

In every relationship he had since leaving his hometown, Nyx was the one doing the chasing. He expected it. He enjoyed it, to a point. He liked to think of his lover throughout the day and watch them smile as they realised the depths of his affection. There had been times when he had enjoyed whisking a boyfriend or girlfriend off on a city adventure, chasing the romance like a hunt. 

He was not used to being doted on. 

To leaving the short, fortified building that housed the Kingsglaive headquarters, to see a lover outside and waiting for him. 

But there Noctis sat, his smile as brilliant as the sun as he spotted Nyx coming down the front steps towards the subway station. The plaza was open, with the thoroughfare traffic moving in waves as trains and buses arrived and left and offices released floods of employees at the end of the day. And Noctis sat amid it all, perched on a decorative ledge in the shade of a small tree, his friend and Shield leaving with a pat to the Prince’s shoulder as Nyx approached. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.” Noctis held up the second coffee he had brought from across the plaza, still warm beneath the heavy paper sleeve. Nyx accepted with a sense of wonder, confused as to how Noctis simply seemed to appear around the city at time. “I’m taking you to dinner.”

“Oh? Are you?”

“Yes.”

Nyx was not used to the attention. He was used to indulgent smiles and hours between texts. He was used to giving small gifts and noticing small things like tastes in coffee and treats. Being on the receiving end— seeing Noctis’ confidence in his affection, his ease in generosity, his observations and sweetness and kindness— flustered Nyx in the reversal. 

Noctis doted on him. Soft words, grand ideas and adventures to explore, dates planned with the precision of a battle strategy. Nyx knew that he had a small army of experts behind him; a photographer to help pick the ideal views, a Shield with a sense of chivalry, and an adviser who absorbed the details like a sponge. Nyx knew that Noctis had help in his plans, in his confidence, in the dates and doting. 

“Why don’t I take you out?” 

Nyx knew what it was to feel like there was an imbalance. 

“Next time, hero.”

“This time, little star. Let me spoil you a bit, too. It’s weird not to.” Nyx was not used to getting all the attention that he was. Nor was he used to the look of confusion that crossed Noctis’ face at the suggestion. 

“Why?”

“Because you need to be spoiled a bit too, little star.”


	5. Excitement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even after the big holidays ended, there was an air of excitement lingering across Lucis.

It built slowly with the new year. As the celebrations across Lucis eased back into a regular routine— people returned to barely neglected offices, Guards and Glaives resumed training and posts across the sprawling city, the flow of traffic and tourists and commerce resumed— there was a slow build of excitement that came with it. It disrupted the newly resumed routines, and buzzed from the Citadel. When he was younger, Noctis had fond memories of these few weeks after the bulk of the annual holidays were done. He remembered the building excitement of the season as the New Year’s balls and dinners and charity events faded into shining moments of scattered glitter and shining lights. There was one last holiday for the kingdom to celebrate before the depth of winter reclaimed its hold in cold, grey slush and long, dark nights.

“Do you have something planned yet?”

Nyx asked when they lounged together on the well-used sofa in Noctis’ apartment, his hands resting on Noctis’ legs as the Prince sprawled across his lap, a game controller in hand. The holiday had barely registered for him— years past it was spent working a post, or patrolling on orders. Years were spent watching the Lucians celebrate the day, while chunks of the city carried on as normal, with few disruptions beyond a delay in government services. But the excitement of the Lucians was still palpable into the little forgotten quarters and corners of the more colourful, lively districts. 

“Dinner,” Noctis answered; “we always do dinner together.”

“Making someone work on a day off, little star? That seems mean.”

“Iggy always volunteers for it.”

“What about a gift?”

“I already found something.” Noctis smirked now, game paused and turning to face Nyx. “It’s tradition to hide it in the Citadel so Dad can pretend he doesn’t go looking for it.”

“Cute.”

“Though…” There were traditions for the day— a gift from son to father, moments where they weren’t King and Prince. Nyx had seen it before, the years he stood post at the Citadel doors and patrolled the quiet hallways. He had watched a younger Noctis tear through the residential floors of the royal apartments, eager to fetch boxes and cards that had been hidden away for the occasion. “Do you want to join us this year? For dinner.”

“Join you?”

“Yeah, me and dad. He wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I don’t have a gift.”

“You don’t need one.”

“I don’t…” Nyx offered a wry look to counter Noctis’ matter-of-fact response. “Little star, I don’t have a birthday gift for his majesty, and you want me to come to dinner with you?”

“You’re part of my gift, really.”

“How so?”

Noctis grinned and stretched out again with his game; “Dad’s been trying to get us together for ages.”


	6. Anniversary Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyx knows how to make plans, but sometimes he needs to reach out for help.

“Are you asking for my help, Ulric?”

Coming up with plans had been the easy part; that was the problem. Nyx had thought of a dozen restaurants to take Noctis to for dinner. He had seen more than a dozen small gifts and trinkets that he wanted to buy for the Prince. He could think of a thousand perfect dates and a hundred perfect gifts. He had looked up prices and times and reservation requirements, and made lists of everything he had thought he wanted to do. 

Now he was a week away from his anniversary with Noctis and he had nothing set in stone. Among all his plans was the abundance of choices and actions. Nyx had realised that he was a man of action and quick thinking only when in battle. Only when looking for threats and openings. 

Planning an anniversary date was entirely different than a skirmish with the Nifs. 

He had cornered Ignis in the Citadel. 

“Yes.”

“I’m impressed it took you this long,” Ignis nodded to a group of passing interns and indicated the hallway before them; “I’m sure my office would be better suited to a private discussion.”

Nyx followed, a little pleased smile on his lips, as Ignis led him through the depths of the familiar palace. The crowds of interns and staff scurried through the halls from meeting to office to meeting, Council pages rushed from chambers and conference rooms, while assistants and various administration members strolled with purpose to the next important event. Ignis’ own office was tucked away above most of the others, in a corridor where the doors were spread further apart and the offices given more room. Where the rush and noise of the other members of royal staff fell into the distant floors below, and the chaos of the public tours further below that. Ignis’ office was settled in a quiet little corner he had been gifted on graduation; out of the way and comfortable for long days and longer nights. 

Nyx had only seen the place once or twice. 

“What have you planned so far?”

The heavy desk that Nyx expected to dominate the room was nestled in a corner near the wide, arched windows. Bare save for a computer and stack of the morning papers. It was all neat, and orderly, and Nyx saw the delicate labels on bookshelves packed tightly with notebooks, textbooks, and folios. Far fewer than he really expected. 

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“I had the idea for dinner, but didn’t know what restaurant. And—”

“Noctis prefers more private events.”

“Exactly.”

Ignis paused at the desk, taking a moment to plug things in and dismiss reminders. “What did you want from me then? Someone to organise it for you?”

“What? No,” Nyx would be lying if he said that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind; “I was hoping you’d cook. You know what Noct likes, you know him the best.”

He would also be lying if he said that Ignis’ surprised reaction wasn’t satisfying, in a small way at least. The younger man sat in his chair, eyes already flitting over titles and notebooks on the nearest shelves. “What did you have in mind?”

“Fish. Or bird. Whichever.”

“That’s… There’s a lot of choices there.”

“Tell me about it.”

“And what will you be doing?”

“I’ve got plans, Scientia, don’t worry about that.” Nyx smiled, offered a winning grin as he mentally checked it off his attack plan. “I just need your expertise in the kitchen.”

“Flattery will not help your cause, Ulric. But very well. I’ll prepare something for your anniversary.”

“I’ll distract Noct all day.”

“Dinner by seven then?”

Nyx left the office with a sense of accomplishment trailing after him. The gift would be the day; a full day out with Noctis, a full night in at the apartment. When it came to plans, Nyx knew that he could manage the smaller aspects— the details, the numbers, the little breakdowns. He just needed to have the right support in place.


	7. Gift Giving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis never like the rules and expectations that came with giving royal gifts.

There was an art to gift giving. Apparently. According to Ignis. 

There were principles and guidelines for gifts to various stations— a gift suitable for the Shield would not be suitable for the King, and neither should ever receive the sort of gift that would be given to a member of Council, or company representative, or member of staff. There were rules in budget and expectations laid out by every verse of recited etiquette and lesson in propriety that had been forced on them both since they were young. 

Noctis had ignored most of that lecture when he actually stepped out with the vague notion to collect a gift for someone. Whether it was for an event or a holiday, Noctis left the formal gifts to those who actually remembered the rules. And he was not passing up the opportunity to give his dad a silly tie or ridiculous mug just because there was some rule written down somewhere about what a Prince should give the King for what occasion. 

“Are you sure about this?”

It turned out there were more rules about what royals could give their lovers. There were rules on jewellery and station, parcels of land and governorships. Titles could be gifted, but the responsibility associated with them were largely still handled by other more qualified figures. The material goods needed to reflect the severity of the relationship; silks for the serious, blossoms for the fairweather, jewellery for the betrothed. 

“Absolutely.”

Noctis much preferred his method. 

Ignis and Gladio both helped him pick it anyway. 

The gift itself was a whim. There was no event, no holiday, no special occasion. There were no set plans or expectations attached to it. There was just the usual date night together, to celebrate the end of a patrol through Lucis. 

Noctis worried his lip as he pushed the little box across the table towards Nyx. He had wrapped it himself; the colourful paper a scrap from some holiday dragged out of his closet, the bow an afterthought by Prompto. 

Nyx had been mid-gesture when Noctis pulled it out and set the little thing down. “What’s this?”

“A gift.”

“I see that, little star.”

This was why Noctis never followed the rules. That smile, that mid-sentence stop, that look of anticipation. Nyx was like a child with gifts and Noctis loved to see it. He liked the way Nyx’s eyes widened like his smile, the surprise and excitement as he tore at the paper with little ceremony. The sticky bow ended up on Noctis’ hair, patted down with a wolfish grin, before Nyx even started to think about the paper. He turned the little box around in his hands to find a seam, a hint of tape, a loose edge he could start with. All while Noctis watched on, chin braced on his hand. 

“What’s the occasion?”

“A welcome home?” Noctis shrugged with a smile, butterflies in his stomach as he watched Nyx’s hands. “I was thinking of you. Just open it, hero.”

“Getting there.”

This was what Noctis liked. The anticipation. The first hint of recognition, the beaming smile in surprise. The kiss that left him breathless and smiling in response to Nyx’s gratitude. Nyx found the opening that he was looking for, and Noctis grinned as the paper tore beneath his impatience.


	8. Hearth and Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis understands why the Kingsglaive vows include their iconic phrase.

Nyx had missed this sort of thing. He missed the raging fireplaces and drying herbs of his family home. He missed the crackle of contained fires and the smell of burning woods. The thick, pungent rot had gripped the autumn Cleigne forests— clinging to the wood caught in a dry spell after the summer rains had moved on. There were whole seasons in Galahd spent with that scent lingering in the air over hunting grounds and rivers, where the crisp leaves had fallen in a blanket over browning grasses. He had spent a childhood wrapped in the comfort of a hearthfire, hands scrapped by rough bark and splintered wood. 

“I can see why you use it as a vow,” Noctis muttered, wrapped in a heavy wool blanket, dozing against him. Outside the winter winds were raging against their little rented cabin. The little log refuge with its abundant windows shuttered to ward off the snows and braced against the storms that had set their departure back to Insomnia delayed for a few days. 

Nyx nodded, chin on Noctis’ shoulder as he watched the flames burning merrily away in the stone fireplace before them. The open hearth was what he remembered from his home back in Galahd; the river stone structure as old as the house itself, a hazard to anyone who didn’t know how to use it. 

“Back home,” Nyx smiled, arms tight around his lover; “my mother used to hang her herbs and plants to dry around the stove and windows. When she was done with what she needed, the rest would be tossed into the fire.”

“Smelled nice?”

“Not always. Most of the time it got me and my sister out of the house.” The little snort of suppressed laugh was the reaction he was looking for; one last laugh for the day before they finally called it a night. “But it was nice.”

“We should do this more often.”

“I’m sure we can come up with some excuses to celebrate with a rented cabin.”

“Don’t always need an excuse, hero.”


	9. Secret Keeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyx is terrible at keeping secrets and hiding gifts.

Nyx was a terrible liar. 

He was horrible at keeping secrets that weren’t related to the protection of the realm. 

“You peeked.”

“I didn’t.”

There were little smiles and glances and a building excitement as he found reasons to celebrate and give gifts. Noctis knew when the man was hiding something, when he was making plans and schemes and thinking that he was getting away with it. He knew what secrets looked like for Nyx, and the sheer, unadulterated glee the man had when he managed to keep them. 

Noctis had an idea of what was in the box he had spotted in Nyx’s kitchen cupboard. It was small, and half-hidden by the old mugs they never really used. It was the right size and shape for a thousand small gifts, any of which would explain Nyx’s good moods. It had been safely tucked away in the depths of the cupboard— colourful exterior standing out among the grey and white mugs and jars of useful things Nyx seemed to collect on instinct. It was purple and had a crest Noctis vaguely recognised, and he shut everything back up before Nyx knew he had gone into the wrong cupboard. 

“You definitely peeked.”

“I swear I didn’t.”

There were traditions with Galahdian events. Little cultural habits and superstitions Noctis had only started to pick up on. Planning for futures happened in autumn. Romances were encouraged in winter— when the home fires burned brightly. There were festivals and auspicious days that didn’t carry over to the Lucian calendar, but Noctis liked to know them. Liked to observe them with Nyx where he could. 

And in the depths of winter, Nyx pulled out the little box with a grin. The accusation coming as Noctis beamed in response. 

“Then how do you know what this is, little star?”

“Because I know you, hero.”

The beads were handmade back home, polished to a shine in wood and ceramics, and a singular bone one that was properly carved with the little constellation Noctis knew from the way Nyx traced it on his skin in the quiet moments. Noctis only had the inkling that the constellation was a guide home.


	10. Rumours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyx knew the rumours better than Noctis; he just thought they weren't always a bad thing.

Festivals brought out the best in the city. The music and the food all gathered into the most public areas was always a standing invitation to anyone who might be passing by. The royal festivals had the Citadel Plaza and avenues closed to all traffic but pedestrians, the stalls and games stretching out in long lines as the Citadel itself stood open to the visitors. The city buzzed with the news and rumours and gossip that spread from the towers in waves. 

Noctis could barely take five steps beyond the barriers erected by Guards and formality before there was someone talking about romances and betrothals. The stories wrapped around him like a web, stretched and spread across the city with himself at the centre. 

“Stop scowling, highness,” Nyx muttered from his side. He fell into step at Noctis’ side, uniform pristine in the lights of the evening games. “You might start rumours.”

“Oh, shut it, hero.”

“Make me, little king.”

Nyx accompanied him by design. Ignis and Gladio reassuring them off the assignment with a grin each, with a snide reminder to enjoy the festive atmosphere. To revel in the joy of the kingdom. 

Because that was what the rumours were. Nyx had listened to them, had smiled at most of the ones that passed by him. In the midst of the celebrations of the kingdom, there was a rippling joy spreading across the people as they watched the Crown Prince smile and dance around a favoured Glaive, who just grinned right back. Nyx had collected the little stories and gossip and well-wishes as he found them, and beamed as he carried them like a magpie’s treasure back to Noctis. 

“They might like to see that too much,” Noctis mused as he glanced from Nyx out across the city. 

Nyx knew that look in Noctis’ eyes. He knew the little gleam of mischief and promise and managed a smirk of his own before he was pulled down by the collar of his uniform into a kiss before the assembling crowds. There was a hush from one edge of the festive gathering— the nobility, the Council, those who had hoped the rumours could be put to use so long as Noctis was too shy to confirm or deny them. From the population, the cheer came secondary to the King’s address. 

“Well,” King Regis started, amusement evident in his voice; “that is certainly one way to start off a joyous festival of romance.”


	11. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At some point, both Noctis and Nyx will need to admit that they can't just have a reunion like a normal couple.

When the relationship was still new, Nyx and Noctis were both at a loss for understanding what was acceptable. What was expected. The Crown Prince could hardly venture into the Kingsglaive head offices and training yards without some alarm being raised— some fuss starting. He could barely step foot in the building unannounced and unplanned without the Captain or a proxy of suitable rank rushing to his side to guide him away from the locker rooms, the mess hall, the infirmary as if he was there on tour. 

Noctis was pushed and bullied away from the open lobby, the public rooms, the canteen. He was guided away from where eager family members waited for their loved ones, and gently shown the door with a promise his message would be passed on. Scheduled training was regimented and strict; sneaking in after hours was reckless and frowned upon (more so because once security realised who was in the building, others were required to stay late). 

Nyx, at first, had watched the families reunited with a grin. He watched kids rush into open arms and the lovers eager kisses. And he noted Noctis’ absence in the crowd, stepping out into the city streets with his smile in place— just happy to be home. Nyx heard the stories later, from security, from Ignis, from Pelna when he was left behind to tinker with the old cameras and systems. He heard about Noctis trying to wait for him, trying to sneak in through the crowd; and often witnessed the imposing Captain gently guiding him to more suitable rooms away from the people waiting for heroes of their own. 

“Nyx! I’m sorry, I wanted—”

Noctis always started with the same. The apology first, the wringing of his hands, the worry in his eyes. 

Nyx was happy to be home. To step through his own door, nestled deeply in the depths of the Galahd nest. He was happy to see Noctis there, unpacking food from takeaway containers, drinks on the counter, a sudden blur before the prince was against his chest. A second of breath before his lover was in his arms. 

He like the soft kisses pressed to Noctis’ forehead. The deeper kisses in greeting. The more demanding ones after dinner, as they settled into each other again. 

“It’s okay, little star,” he reassured Noctis each time, the hurt and yearning banished by the solid, very real feel of Noctis in his arms again. “I heard you kept trying to sneak in.”

“Just wanted to celebrate you getting home.”


	12. Lazy Blue Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis and Nyx sneak away from the planned lazy holiday at Cape Caem for some quiet of their own.

“What do you see?”

“Water.” 

They hadn’t meant to go this far out, rocked gently on the waves as Noctis navigated where Nyx told him. They had meant to stay close to land, to the haven where the holiday was going to be celebrated by their family, in the shadow of the lighthouse where their friends had fires and grills and all manner of drinks to complement the summer heats. They hadn’t meant to do more than settle a little further away from shore, where the shadow of the Accordo Islands rose in the distance and the rust on the lighthouse tower could still be seen. 

But Noctis had wanted to go fishing. 

And close to shore never gave him the best catches. 

“So, nothing.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Nyx was in charge of the sonar, watching the little blips appear and move and disappear beneath the calm ocean. 

Noctis went where Nyx told him. That would be their excuse when they got back to Caem to face the wrath of Ignis and Gladio and whomever else had noticed Noctis stealing away with a royal vessel and his Kingsglaive lover. Nyx was the bad influence between them. 

“Nyx—”

“Have you ever gone swimming in the ocean, little star?”

“Once, maybe.”

They had planned for a lazy day off at the cape, at the vacation house that still looked like it was in disrepair on the cliffs of Caem. They had planned for an easy afternoon in the summer sun, and dinner over bonfires among the garden. They had settled in the morning beneath the trees on Caem’s hill, sheltered from the sun by the greenery. Before someone mentioned the fishing prospects and Noctis was off like a shot down to the hidden docks of the decommissioned base and bunker. 

Now, they rocked along the waves, anchored out deeper than they intended and with a nice tank full of fish to show for their trouble. Noctis’ rod was still cast over the side, the naked lure impotent in the calm waters for now. Now they sat at the edge of the boat, watching the distant purple line of land while they thought about the open waters before them. 

“We should go to Galahd,” Noctis said, smiling as he leaned against Nyx in the seat they had claimed together for the view. “I’m pretty sure this boat could make it.”

“It could.” Nyx agreed, glancing down at the sonar to get his bearings on the open waters, knowing that the blue-grey seas of his home would offer new challenges to the fishing prince at his side. “We could.”

“Iggy would kill us.”

“Pretty sure his Majesty might have something to say, too.”

“We should do it.”

Nyx smiled, a kiss pressed to Noctis’ temple, the sonar set aside for him to move. For now, they had food waiting for them at Caem— fires and warmth and family gathered for the lazy summer holidays beneath the Lucian sky. “One day we will.”


	13. Moon Pastry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyx didn't actually know what he expected when he was invited to the little gathering at Noctis' place.

Nyx once thought that Galahd liked parties. He could remember more than half a dozen festivals that had been sprinkled through his childhood like wondrous breaks from mediocrity and school. He could recall rites of passage and traditions, and the food. He remembered the food most of all. 

“So what’s in this?”

But the Lucians liked a party far more than the Galahdians. They just seemed intent on hiding the whole festive spirit behind some mask of serene severity. All gilded steel and chrome of their shining cities, with none of the personality in the colour and music. But there was a strange sort of festivity draped across the skeletal airs and deathly pale personas the Lucians favoured. 

“Fruit, mostly. I think. You’d have to ask Ignis,” Noctis grinned as he selected one of the tarts— the heavy paste filling hidden beneath a deceptively sturdy crust; “I just like them.”

The more traditional recipes, Nyx had learnt, were red beans and lotus seed. Now, to match the changing sweet tooth of Lucian society, there were minced fruits, sweet fillings, custards and soft, sweet cheeses. The crust was still sturdy and bland, baked to a golden perfection that resisted leaving the delicate flakes he expected at the sight of it. There was old Lucian stamped into the goods— marks and sayings that Nyx assumed were significant, but Noctis never really seemed willing to translate. When bitten, Nyx had been surprised by the tart-like nature of the pastry, having expected more of a cake given the name. The too-sweet fruit and mince and spiced berries had been a pleasant surprise. 

Noctis’ friends each with their own laden plates of goods and treats and sweets, gathered around them while Gladio opened the drinks. Berries and juices and custards seeped from crusts and over hands, and Nyx thought he could be forgiven for thinking the whole festival was meant as a celebration of food rather than part of one of many Lucian memorials. It was easy to get lost in the chatter and smiles and laughter between the friends who had invited him in. 

It was easier to get lost in Noctis’ own cheeky smile as he stole treats from his plate, the moonlight beyond the city lost in the shimmer of the Wall and the lights of thousands of other homes experiencing the same sort of gatherings.


	14. Luxury Establishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyx just wanted to go home and crash. Noctis had other ideas.

“Little star, please,” Nyx groaned once he saw the car. He had spotted Noctis immediately; standing out in front of the Kingsglaive headquarters, hip against the Star, grin in place. “I just got back.”

The sun was shining over Insomnia— the light of the Wall reflected against the glittering buildings of the metropolis. The sprawl of roads and traffic, the promise of hours’ long commute back to the calm haven of his own little nest deep within the tangle of the Lucian capital now dashed in the gleam of light on the Prince’s car, and in the shine of Noctis’ smile. Nyx let his shoulders slump in defeat, let Noctis steal his bag with a kiss, guiding him towards the door.

“That’s why I’m here.”

“I just want to crash in bed, Noctis.”

“You will.” Noctis smiled as he settled behind the wheel, no Shield or retainer in sight. His phone was already connected to the car, and Nyx knew that the tracking was on. There were automated replies, check-ins, tracking and tracing, and all manner of proof that Noctis was never truly alone. But he settled gratefully into the comfort of the passenger’s seat— having been dreading the commute back by transit. “Sleep in the car, if you want.”

The chaos of the front lines melted away as they started to move. The purr of the engine, the quiet of the car, the peace of Noctis’ presence next to him. Nyx settled a hand on Noctis’ knee, but let himself be whisked away from the turmoil of the world at war, and into the peace hoarded throughout the city and its winding roads. The pulse of traffic, the gleam of the city’s chrome and glass skeleton, it all faded away as he closed his eyes and just breathed easy. 

“We’re here, hero.”

Nyx barely registered the building. He knew that he wasn’t home. His building was short and squat, dwarfed by the rest of the district. He was layers down into the marrow of the cityscape, where the Citadel was a distant shine shown on nightly newscasts and advertisements. His building was not this— the grand, sleek rise of modern, Lucian aesthetic. An imitation of the Citadel with its black, polished front steps and the gaping maw of gilded doors. A small army in suits rushed around them as Nyx reluctantly left the car as Noctis handed it off to a valet. 

“This isn’t home.”

“No.”

“Noctis—”

“Trust me.”

Nyx followed. Too exhausted to argue, he followed Noctis’ lead through the dead-silent lobby, with it’s lush seats and decadent lighting. He followed Noctis through past ballrooms and conference centres, and barely glanced at the copies of famous art set beneath every available light and space. 

They may have been in the Citadel, for all of its opulent comforts mirrored in smaller forms of the hotel. 

The room stretched out before him— plush carpets and overstuffed seats. The windows shrouded by the curtains, but still light; the bed more than twice the size of his own and already inviting. 

“Wow.”

“Boots off, hero.” Noctis smiled as he slipped past, quiet as he moved around the room— to the little bar set in the corner by the smooth stretch of the desk. Nyx hurried to comply, already spotting several small bottles of Galahdian favourites among the bottles Noctis was looking over. “Drink first? Or bath?”

“I showered when I got in.”

“Go look.”

The closet was open in the hallway, and Nyx spotted some of his more comfortable clothes already tucked away. Things he had left at Noctis’ apartment, things he would never dream to wear if he had booked the room himself. Nyx smirked at the idea of the tattered, comfortable sweater and jeans being worn in the presence of the wealthy Lucians and Altisseans who expected ‘better’ in this place. 

And all thought of those little rebellions vanished as he spotted the bathroom. Noctis may as well have taken him to a spa. Shower and bath were already separate, but both together were the size of his entire bathroom back home. It was the jacuzzi that made him give pause. 

“Bath first, little star. Get in here.”

If he was being whisked away, he was going to enjoy as much of it, and Noctis, as he could.


	15. Gift-Wrap Carnage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a good haul, even if it left a mess.

The wrapping was everywhere. 

Shreds of it littered the apartment floor; pieces and whole carefully peeled back sheets were gathered into a loose pile, long curls of shining ribbons peeking out from ragged edges and cheerful prints. The Lucian papers were all shining and starry— delicate silvers piecing together the well wishes of the season, the cheerful cartoon characters appearing in layers until they were a mass of grins and eyes and catch phrases. There were bags, with silver tissue crumpled within— flecks of starry golds and refined midnight blacks sprinkled across the paper as it now lay, crumpled in a heap, shoved back into the giftbag. 

The Galahdian wrappings were what Nyx preferred, but he understood that he was biased. All ribbons and fabrics, useful scarves and scraps that could be reused over and over to keep the delicate gifts within. That would be tied to bags and added to long scarves. That would fly with pennants and festival colours, or shredded for prayer flags, made stiff with little dips and dabs of paints. Years ago, Nyx remembered Selena stitching new dresses and suits for her toys— testing her skills as she added careful lines of embroidery and patters while he teased. 

The grey scarf she made him— his last gift from her— was settled safely in Noctis’ closet with his jacket. 

There were still gifts left untouched by the morning’s carnage. Tucked away, and clearly labelled, were the gifts for Gladio, for Ignis, for Prompto— all shining and expertly wrapped. All set aside beneath the large windows, where the morning sun was peeking over the jagged line of the city. 

“Good haul?” Noctis asked, stretched across the sofa as he read through the guide Nyx had bought him to accompany the game already sitting on the console beneath the television. 

Nyx ran a hand over Noctis’ ankles and up his leg; coffee just starting to break him from the morning stupor of the holiday chaos. He had a sweater draped across the back of a chair, a new jacket along another. There were books, giftcards, and a hand written ‘coupon’ from Noctis to promise a “week of camping, hiking, whatever (when its warm again)”. 

“Good haul,” he agreed, knowing that Ignis would arrive any minute with real breakfast. That Gladio and Prompto were already on their way. That the chaos of opening gifts was about to start all over again, before the absolute mess of preparing a holiday lunch in Noctis’ little kitchen started.


	16. Gingerbread Towers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebrating the winter with food was a Lucian tradition.

“It’s impressive.”

“Yeah,” Nyx agreed, grin hidden by the wrap of his scarf against the cold; “it’s alright.”

He barely felt the punch to his shoulder as Noctis huffed at his side. Neither were there in an official capacity yet. Neither there as Prince and Glaive— to judge and sample, and foster the rumours buzzing around them like the snowflakes beyond the little enclosure. The festival tents were almost barren, save for the first displays. The first hints and trappings to celebrate the ice and snow outside. 

In a few hours, the fairgrounds will be crawling with spectators and smiling citizens. The official processions pushing through in a whirlwind of show and tell through the makeshift kitchens and cafes that had popped up for the occasion and contest. 

It was Lucian tradition to show off food when expecting blizzards and cold and all the inconveniences of winter. 

Noctis was not above using his privilege to see the entrants in the seasonal dessert contest first. Before the chaos descended. 

They had sampled the custard flans with caramel and coffee. Trifles packed with winter berries and creams into small jars that left them wanting more. Puff pastries, warmed and filled with chocolates, profiteroles dipped beneath the steaming chocolate fountains before being presented on paper plates. Rich hot chocolates, and warming teas, ciders and mulled berries. Everything about the little gathering of smiling chefs and cooks and their assistants and staff screamed decadence for the winter. It was all warm and rich, and Noctis was buzzing from the sugar in his samples before they reached the last tent. 

Gingerbread was a staple. It was common and easy, and Noctis had built thousands of little gingerbread farms in his childhood. 

Nyx liked the bite of the ginger that lingered afterwards— the snap of the cookie as he broke his sample apart to savour as he inspected the display at Noctis’ side. 

Neither of them had seen a gingerbread Citadel before.

It towered higher than they expected, with more detail than expected. A glitter in the royal icing making it shine as it was carefully moved and finished. The crowning touch yet to be added as Noctis admired the sugar glass arched windows in the more prominent levels. 

“It that the Wall?” Nyx asked as coils of delicate spun sugar was added between the pillars of the Skywalk. Defying gravity as the coils of sugar had been wrapped around a stick of candy before they cooled— set up like the colourful pulse of Crystalline magic every citizen was familiar with. More spun sugar was draped carefully from there— the illusion of the Wall, the barrier to protect the royal household, falling into place over the solid cookie structure.

Noctis smiled as Ignis arrived to usher them away from the final preparations; “Dad’s going to love it.”


	17. Anniversary Walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some elements of Altissia reminded Nyx of home.

It was easy to get lost in Altissia. Wandering the narrow paths alongside canals and through wide plazas. It was easy to misstep and end up in the wrong layer of the city than where intended, looking out over the bridges and lights and soft glow of the lanterns in the early evening hours. 

It reminded Nyx of the forests paths back home. 

The narrow walkways along the canyon walls, dipping in and out of ancient mines his ancestors once hollowed from seemingly solid stone. The rickety bridges crossing between perilous chasms, and the unbeaten trails he’d had to make himself. Guidelines and webs of sturdy rope he’d be praying never broke when he was halfway down a wall to some little niche that had looked interesting from a distance. Wandering the crossing forest paths that were too overgrown and wild by nature to settle into straight, easy lines. 

The weave and web of the Altissean streets reminded him of those little paths and trails through his beloved mountains and canyons and dark forests. They twisted with the currents and coiled their way up impossible layers of ancient city build upon generations of submerged ruins.

But the canyon was easier to navigate at times. 

Noctis paused at a tourist map pinned to one of the many boards. And glanced around to regain his bearings. “I think it’s this way.”

There was a restaurant buried deep in the layers of the city, where the soft lighting only barely touched the decorated front. 

Nyx had glimpsed it once, and thought it looked interesting, before they carried on towards the more welcoming Maahgo and its shield of floating markets. 

“We’ll find it,” he assured Noctis, slinging an arm across his lover’s shoulders to guide him back into the mess of alleys and canals and plazas. “Otherwise our anniversary is a nice walk through a beautiful city.”


End file.
